Forget Me Not
by MiniBandit
Summary: They say that by wearing these little flowers, you will never forget those you love. Akuroku. One Shot. AU


_February_

He always found the rolling waves of the ocean to be rather calming, soothing in a way that nothing else could accomplish. This was good, considering the fact that it seemed he had been stood up. If it weren't for the relaxing white noise that the waves were providing, he would have surely snapped long ago and stomped out of the diner.

Who skips out on a date now a days? It wasn't like they were kids anymore; there was no need for this juvenile bullcrap. If you don't intend on showing up to a date, you should call or do _something_ at least. He let out a grumbling sigh and raised his hand up, gesturing the waiter over. This occasion called for a stiff drink, but seeing as how this was a diner and the strongest thing they had was some rather shifty coffee, he would settle for that. Anything to relax the humiliation he was currently drowning in.

A young woman with sleek, dark hair, a waitress presumably, shadowed after his perky waiter and occasionally spoke up. "Do you think you will need- I mean, would you like cream and sugar? For the coffee?" It was obvious she was new. He could see the way she kept fidgeting with her nametag –Xion S.- and stumbling over her words.

Not particularly up for conversation, he simply nodded and waited for the two to wander off before looking back out the window. When his phone started buzzing in his pocket, it too was ignored. It was probably just his darling brother, Sora, calling to bug him and talk about some nonsensical shit. The sunset was clearly the better option to choose.

Eyes that mirrored the roaring waves in both color and intensity narrowed under fair bangs as they watched the multicolored surf on the beaches below. The sun had begun its daily descent, spreading hues of pink and orange across the sky and clear waters, making the tides appear otherworldly. As the crushing humidity fought against the chilled air on his side of the window the more a wispy fog clouded up the glass, making it annoyingly difficult to view the sunset..

Everyone else in the diner was bustling around, their conversations animated. Many a couple were busy chatting it up in their own booths, some performing sickeningly sweet actions like gazing into each other's eyes, or even worse, feeding each other across the table. It probably would have made him smile on a normal day, but being stood up tends to put a damper on your romantic side. Now, staring down glumly at the mass of fries on his plate, he contemplated taking a break from dating, since he clearly wasn't getting anywhere in that department. It hadn't really been that long since he was asked on this date; it was just a few days ago.

Mood on a steady decline, he stabbed a piece of shrimp and drowned it in sauce.

"I'm a little afraid to ask…" His head snapped up at the new voice, ready to bark out a bristling retort, but as he stared up at the man looming over his table, he suddenly felt like an ant staring up at the walls of the Grand Canyon. Who was this freak of nature?

He let his gaze slowly travel up the monolith of dark jeans, rumbled –probably just out of the hamper- orange top, and pale skin. And who wore pony tails anymore? Well, if you could call the way the man's hair was choked back into a hair tie a pony tail.

His hand played with the edge of his short, pale locks as he eyed the tortured red hair. God, if hair could scream for help, his would be deafeningly loud.

"Ask what? What you're doing leaning on my table? It seems your mother forgot to teach you a little something known as personal space." He huffed, breaking contact with those vivid green eyes. They were a little intimating. Quite attractive actually, but intense none the less.

Apparently this was an invitation, because said red head dropped down into the seat across from him, his lips curving back to reveal a toothy at grin. "Actually, I was just wondering who killed your puppy. You look like you are ready to commit mass murder, and seem to be taking it out on those innocent shrimp. Who messed up and pissed you off, blondie?"

He blinked, unsure of whether to be amused or annoyed. "My date, if you must know. Now, if you would kindly remove your scrawny butt from my booth, I'd like to finish eating." Though the words themselves were a tad harsh, his tone betrayed how tired he was feeling.

It was silent for several moments while he nibbled on his food, waiting somewhat impatiently for the redhead to get up and leave.

Glancing up revealed that instead of leaving, he had somehow pulled out a piece of notebook paper and was writing what appeared to be a list. Curiosity getting the better of him, he leaned forward, squinting to try and read what his unwanted companion was writing.

"What are you doing?" He questioned, setting his fork down.

The redhead only hummed, jotting down a few more lines of text before pushing the paper and pencil across the table. The goofy grin that had been plastered on his face moments earlier had softened, becoming something more genuine. "Believe it or not, I've been stood up before too. But once you get past the pissed off stage, which you are oh so clearly thriving in, you are almost through." A thin finger tapped the paper that was now lying in front of him.

The paper simply read;

 _'Stage one: Okay, he's not coming._

 _Stage two: Oh god, this is humiliating._

 _Stage Three: I think I'm going to key his fucking car._

 _Stage four: There are other fish in the sea, right?_

 _Stage five: If he is that much of an asshat, I wouldn't want to date him anyway. That sexy red head seems nice, maybe I'll ask him to stay and chat.'_

Irritation draining from his features and a smile threatening to perk his lips up, he peeked up at the smiling redhead. "You're strange, you know that right?"

"Actually my name is Axel, Axel Sinclaire, but you can call me whatever you like, sunshine." He winked.

Said sunshine bit back a laugh at the rather cheesy nickname. "If you never call me that again, you can sit with me. My name is Roxas, not blondie and especially not sunshine. Think you can remember that, _Mr. Sinclaire_?"

Axel's expression fell for a moment but returned with gusto, this time with a dangerous twinkle behind those emerald eyes. "Oh, trust me, honey buns. I'm definitely not going to forget that name."

It didn't take long before all thoughts of Roxy's prior date were wiped from his mind, replaced instead with stories of childhood misadventures, shenanigans that involved projectile shrimp, and many bouts of laughter. Throughout their evening, Axel was good to his word as well, that he wouldn't call him sunshine or blondie. Instead, he shot out what seemed to be an endless list of new nicknames for him. Roxas' reactions to them varied from outright glaring, choking on his water, and dropping his head to the table in exasperation.

"If I can hit that light over there with this shrimp, will you go on a real date with me, mon rayon de soleil?" Axel grinned over at him, wielding one of his few remaining shrimp.

After several hours of going through nickname after nickname, refusing stubbornly to repeat the same one twice, Axel ended up having to start throwing foreign pet names out. Apparently, spending several years in Europe as a child had allowed Axel to soak up bits and pieces of several languages, mainly French. Roxas laughed and argued that was cheating, but the man continued on with the lists of names, relentless in his quest.

Roxas made a pathetic attempt at retrieving the shrimp, "Fine, I'll take that bet." He jerked his thumb in the direction of the front door. "That light is on the other side of the building, and I'd bet money that you wouldn't be able to hit it."

Around the time the third airborne shrimp was sent splattering into the wall, not even coming close to hitting the defenseless ceiling light, Roxas decided it was time to put a close to the night before they were kicked out.

"I've never seen someone fail that horribly," Roxas smiled as they stepped out of the diner, much to the staff's relief. He hadn't remembered the last time he laughed so much, and wanted nothing more than to see the redhead again, though, he would never say that outright. "Maybe next time we can go somewhere without tiny shrimps that you can throw. I'd rather not piss off another restaurant."

"Well, I made a valiant effort at least." Axel shrugged, but the defeated look on his face was soon replaced with upbeat surprise. Before Roxas knew it, his face was squished against the rumpled fabric covering Axel's chest in a hug that very much fit his personality, over the top and slightly annoying but somehow still pleasant and sweet. His exuberant cheers made the remaining patrons of the diner stare out the windows at them, their meals once again interrupted by the loud redhead.

Roxas rolled his eyes, not able to stop the smile that spread across his face. There was no way Axel would stand him up, right?

 _August_

When it came to dates, he really was more unlucky than a dodo bird, and that was putting it lightly.

From his spot at the window, Roxas watched as the ocean raged; it's normally crystal clear waters were muddled from the harshness of the storm that was brewing in the skies above. Its darkened clouds seemed to sap any light from the surf, turning the waves dark as night. Not a single soul was on the beach below, as most people in town were inside their homes waiting for the storm to pass. Not him, however. No, he was the dodo waiting in an empty diner for his date to show up.

As the waves roared, thrashing against the beach with tremendous power, he crossed his arms and leaned back into the booth. Humiliation, anger, confusion; these feelings were roaring through his heart and making it impossible to enjoy the meal laid out before him. Tiny shrimp were laid out half-hazardly on his plate, getting colder every minute that he ignored them. His dark haired waitress kept sending him confused looks from across the restaurant, which was only adding to his embarrassment and made him duck his head, hiding behind fair bangs.

Why hadn't he so much as called? You would think that would be common courtesy.

Adding to his embarrassment, his phone started vibrating on the tabletop and just skittered away from his fingers when he tried to retrieve it. When he finally did capture the runaway device it wasn't even his date that was calling, like he had hoped. His screen had his brother's grinning face plastered on it, alerting him to his incoming call.

For a long second he considered swiping to the left, canceling the call for probably the hundredth time in the last hour. He really didn't want to talk to Sora, to hear that cheerful voice ramble on about pointless topics, but after resigning to the fact that his date was not going to show up… Well, he needed that bit of cheer in his life.

Accept button swiped, the phone was then promptly smushed against his cheek. "You know Sora, you are lucky that we have unlimited minutes or else today alone you would have racked up a hell of a phone bill."

"Rox- … -you got-… -ome!- … -Where-…" Instead of his brother's upbeat chirp, all Roxas got was the occasional syllable and a plethora of static.

"Uh, Sora? Can you hear me?" He pouted and pulled his phone down to check his signal. It was shaky to say the least.

A shuffle of fabric made him look up from the no good device. "Don't worry, hun, it's just the storm. My phone is doing the same thing, crazy huh?" His waitress glanced down at him as she refilled his water, cool blue eyes twinkling with amusement.

"You're probably right…" He shut his phone off and tucked it safely away, sparing a curious glance at the girl before he started to dig in his pockets for his wallet. "So um, Xion right? Are you new here or something? I come here all the time and I haven't seen you around."

Xion tilted her head, onyx strands falling into her eyes. "What do you mean? I've been here for almost six months, you know that. I think you are in need of some more coffee, Roxas. My treat." Her lips quirked up in a half smile.

Roxas scratched the back of his neck, bewildered beyond belief because of the brief exchange. It wasn't something he cared enough about to ponder too hard on, however. So he simply started counting out bills, intent on paying for the meal he hadn't touched and braving the storm. It had been hours and there was no way he was waiting for his pathetic date any longer. Upon opening his wallet, a scrap of paper fell out and drifted down to the table below. He raised an eyebrow, not having remembered putting anything in his wallet, and reached out to inspect the foreign paper.

It was neatly folded, and inside laid a simple pressed flower. Its delicate blue hued petals were the exact color of the sea when it was calm.

There were no markings or writing to explain the tiny flower that had been tucked away out of harm's way in his wallet, and he was sure that he had not put it there himself. That was the kind of thing a person would remember, after all. His brow furrowed as he stared down at it, turning it over to inspect the back.

"Tu me manques."

Even if interrogated, Roxas would never admit that he jumped half a foot in the air and screeched like an injured animal. The flower drifted to the ground, forgotten as he grabbed the edge of the table to steady himself. With a hand pressed against his chest in a weak attempt at calming his racing heart, Roxas snapped his gaze up to send a seething glare at the idiot that about gave him a heart attack.

His eyes widened at the red headed figure that was not only standing beside him, but was towering over him, holding the petite flower he dropped. The small blue petals contrasted greatly with the man's pale skin and crayon red hair. He found himself silently questioning whether the man styled that hair with a firecracker, because that had to be the only way to achieve such an absurd –yet really cool- style. There was a strike of familiarity about him, something that made him believe they had met before. Perhaps in his dreams, or on the street, maybe even just briefly in passing, but the feeling was fleeting and didn't linger.

Long fingers waving in front of his face jolted him out of his thoughts and back into reality. Roxas took a healthy step away, creating a more comfortable distance between the two of them, and stared up at the statuesque man with weary eyes. "You really shouldn't sneak up on people like that. I think I just lost five minutes off my lifespan." He ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "Anyway, did you say something?"

"Ne m'oubliez pas." The red head smiled down at him, a look that was so crushingly sad, and held out the small flower. "Forget me not. That's this flower's name. Got it memorized, ma crevette?"

That certainly wasn't what he had said the first time around, but he wasn't really in the mood to argue. The storm outside was only getting worse, and the thunder that rocked the building was a testament to that. Really he just wanted to go home and wallow in self-pity while he gorged himself on ice cream. So he took the flower that was being held out for him and nodded his thanks. "That's um… That's good to know. I'm actually on my way out, so…"

He dropped a handful of bills down on the table and did an immediate one-eighty, trying not to make it _seem_ like he was rushing out of the restaurant.

Pulling his hood up, Roxas stepped out into the pouring rain, taking great care not to let the flower in his hands get wet. Why he did that was a mystery to him, but some part of him felt the need to make sure it stayed safe. The sky had grown impossibly dark, and it became increasingly difficult to see as he marched through the onslaught of rain. His clothes were soon soaked to the bone, but he had managed to tuck his hands into his jacket, protecting the dainty blue flower.

What a splendid way to end his day, drenched and alone.

He hadn't gotten very far when before he felt a presence walking beside him. Before he could jerk away, the rain that had been assaulting his small body disappeared when a umbrella was raised above his head. He blinked at the redhead holding the umbrella, confusion evident on his own rain streaked face. "I'm not a damsel in distress, buddy. Go find someone else to bug, I'm just not in the mood."

Since the man was holding the umbrella above Roxas, keeping him protected from the rain, he himself was left open to the elements. Previously lively and porcupine-esque hair was now drenched and sticking to the sides of his face and neck, but there was no sign that he gave a single damn. Why was this stranger being so kind? Was he really that pathetic looking?

Those pale features only showed a touch of unease and a fondness that made Roxas a little uncomfortable. "Dunno about you, little mouse, but I don't want to be outside when the _worst_ part of the storm hits. I'm heading in this direction too, and there is no need for such a pretty little thing like you to suffer in this rain."

Roxas frowned and pulled his hood down further in an attempt at obscuring his face from the obnoxious stranger. "Fine. Keep the chatter to a minimum, though. I'd like to ward off my headache as long as possible."

They fell in step together, with the rain slapping at the sidewalk around them. The silence was a welcome relief, and he finally allowed himself to relax; the white noise of rain and crashing waves lulling his mind into a more peaceful state. When he started his ascent up the porch to his apartment, he paused, having completely forgotten that he still had company.

"Ah." Roxas coughed awkwardly, stepping out from under the umbrella and moving to the dry safety of the doorway. "You really didn't have to stay with me all the way here, y'know." He peered over his shoulder at the drenched man leaning on the bottom of the railing, a somber expression dragging his features down. The sight pulled at his heartstrings.

"Do you want to come in? Just for a second, I mean. We have plenty of towels-"

" _Roxas!_ " The door slammed open and he was dragged into a crushing embrace. Roxas flushed, embarrassed by his brothers tendency to overreact, and in front of company too. "Why the sam hell weren't you answering your phone? I already sent Riku out to hunt you down! Ah, I should probably call him and let him know you're alive- Oh, hey Axel! What are you doing here?" Sora rambled, ending with a question that made Roxas' eyebrows crawl up his forehead.

"Hey, kiddo!" The dripping red head –Axel?- sent Sora a small wave before returning his attention, and those vivid green eyes, to Roxas. "Thanks for offering, kitten, but I have to get going. Better get home before the storm picks up, right?" He flashed him a charming grin before turning and walking back down the steps.

Roxas watched him leave, somewhat guiltily, before he pulled the flower out of his pocket and frowned. "Hey Sora, did you put this in my wallet?"

 _January_

It's said that by wearing these petite flowers, you will never forget those you love. Maybe that was why Axel started giving them to Roxas; some part of him hoped that they would help him remember him. That they would somehow remind him of all the moments they had shared over the past year. Countless times he had promised him that he wouldn't give up on him, but it was a hopeless dream. Roxas would never remember him, and he had to live with that knowledge.

But Axel Sinclaire was definitely not a quitter, and when he made a promise, he _kept_ it.

He smiled down at the delicate blue flowers in his hand, unable to think of anything but Roxas' eyes as he looked upon them. From the moment he saw them growing along the pathways on his way to work last February, he could only think of how they were a perfect match for Roxas' eyes. Now, he wasn't normally such a cheesy person. In fact, just last year he had beencontent with flirting with any and everyone in sight.

That was, until he saw a furious little blond sitting all by himself in the diner one night, glaring daggers at the poor defenseless shrimp on his plate.

It really didn't take long before he realized something was horribly wrong. Not like it was exactly hard to figure out. Axel showed up to his apartment for their date only to find that Roxas had absolutely no clue who he was and was steadfast about not going anywhere with him. At first he thought it was a cruel joke, but the look of bewilderment in those soft blue eyes had made it very clear that he was serious.

"I _told_ you, buddy. I've never seen you before in my life. Now would you kindly remove yourself from my porch?" Roxas had said, those baby blues mere slits as they regarded Axel with a look that made it clear he thought he was a nutcase.

Before he had been able to get a word in, the door was slammed right in his face.

Like he said, he was not a quitter, so he ended up going back to Roxas' apartment the following day, fuming and fully intending on dragging some answers out of the blond. However nutso he had found Roxas the day prior, he still had been unable to wipe those eyes and that honey sweet laugh from his mind. It would have been a crime against nature to give up on him so quickly.

At least when he showed up the second time, Roxas' perky twin brother had been home. The moment he had laid eyes on Axel, the brunet had snatched his arm and yanked him into the apartment.

"Aha, looks like he was right on the money with that journal entry. Red hair." Sora had stated, moving around Axel in a way that had reminded him of a hungry vulture. "Green eyes. Tall. Oh, and most importantly, _insanely hot_." He had grinned, looking quite proud of his strange observations.

"Uh, thanks. I'm actually here to talk to Roxas, though. Is he around or..?"

Sora had simply shrugged, bright eyes that had been glittering with curiosity were suddenly serious. "Yeah, he is still sleeping. The lazy bum. You on the other hand, I need to have a word with."

He came to learn about the accident, the details of which still made his stomach tense, about the godawful brain injury that left Roxas unable to retain new memories for more than a few days. It wasn't exact, and occasionally Roxas would retain his new memories for almost a full week, but a vast majority of the time it was around two days. The first day was always the hardest because Roxas would not always look through the scrapbook that was laid open on his dresser. Sora and Roxas both used it to log down important events, people he met, and general things he wanted or _needed_ to remember.

So when he didn't peek at it, something that only happened if Sora was out of the apartment that morning or accidentally slept in, a rather predictable series of events would unfold just because Roxas didn't read about his condition. He would go about his life like it was still two years ago, and would end up going straight back to that diner where Axel first met him to wait for the date that he had accepted prior to the accident.

Two days.

Two fucking days.

Axel had found it impossible to wrap his mind around back then, that the feisty young man he had such a remarkable evening with would never be able to remember him for much longer than _two days_. Now, he had never experienced heart break before, so he was nowhere close to prepared for the shock of anguish that had shot through him, shaking him to his core for weeks. It was like someone had hallowed out his chest, dug out his heart, and replaced the empty cavity with cold air.

Someone with as much life as Roxas had deserved so much more than two days.

Roxas' brother was actually thrilled when Axel managed to drag himself to their doorstep a whole month later, a bundle of forget-me-nots in hand. It had taken him that long just to get his thoughts together, to deal with his own grief and to decide whether or not he was willing to commit to something like that. Sora had made it clear, if Axel wasn't planning on being serious then he needed to just back out of Roxas' life, for both of their sakes.

Guess what he decided?

Axel chuckled, running his fingertips over the petals of the flower in his hand as he remembered walking down the beach with Roxas the day that he decided to stay with him. Roxas had been so awkward at first, but with a heavy dose of encouragement from Sora, he accepted the date with the man he only knew from one entry in his scrapbook.

 _'Hair red like fire, eyes an envious green, grin so stupidly cocky, and so goddamn attractive I can't even begin to describe it. That's Axel for you, Axel Sinclaire. I can't believe I met someone like him, but I sort of wish Sora hadn't told me that I won't be able to remember him. It hurts, more than I can put into words._

 _It's sort of like I'm dying. Like, if what Sora and these creepy medical records say is true… I won't remember any of this._

 _I'm going to disappear, and there is nothing I can do to stop it. I don't want to disappear. To forget._

 _Maybe I should end this entry here, before I get too emotional.'_

From that moment on, they both carried a forget-me-not with them. That flower carried more meaning than either could express in words, and some days it almost seemed like Roxas remembered the flower. That was just wishful thinking on Axel's part, though.

Of course he still didn't remember him most mornings, and days he didn't look at his scrapbook were particularly wretched, but they had an apartment together now. Sora even moved in with them, rooming with Roxas so he wouldn't have to wake up alone in a strange new place. They had a life together that for the most part was filled with laughter, love, and on some days, projectile shrimp.

"Axel?" A timid yet curious voice brought Axel out of his memories, and he lolled his head back over the edge of the couch so he could smile at the rumpled blond. Sora stepped out from behind Roxas, swinging his arm around his shoulders and giving him a reassuring smile.

"Good mornin', mon coeur. You ready for breakfast?"

* * *

 **Translations:**

 **Mon rayon de soleil:** My ray of sunshine

 **Tu me manques:** I missed you.

 **Ma crevette:** My shrimp

 **Mon Coeur** : My heart


End file.
